Your dress was plum;
although, my fantasies remember Maroon.
Dancing in God’s house, you moved like scripta,
and I burned like the sinner’s hands.
Had you blushed near me again, I was going
to hold it against myself.

Thrice removed
(grief-stricken) and held against him,
I am empty of you.

But not yet extinguished from your singe of interest,
of your reading me like The Price of Salt.
Wondering, suppose I call, if your
arrival would be the difference of a few vowels.
Divine intervention, master of my curiosity,
I spend my evenings drunk on forbidden fruits.

Pardon my chaos talking in triangles–
of lust’s longing in color–
our tortured poet already said it best.

My gender can change at the flip of a switch
They say it's impossible They say it's just a glitch
They ask if I'm male, female or non-binary
I'm all three I'll tell them finally

that's when They start to frown
and look at me like I'm a clown
"you can't have all three you must choose one!"
"the science doesn't support it, ***."

how do you explain it then
when my gender decides to flip again
when I go from someone who loves herself
to someone who can't look at himself
when I can't stand to be either gender
I refuse to stand by and be a pretender

Is it too much to ask for you to respect me?
To let me be myself, to let me be free?
To ask me what my pronouns are
when you see me at a bar?

my gender is mine you will not correct it
you will not make me feel like a misfit
because I know who I am, what I am
there is no right answer to this exam

my gender is fluid
don't act like you're clueless
because I don't fit in a neat little box
I don't care if you think its a paradox
because you don't get a say
in who I am today

I'm not nonbinary
I'm not trans
I'm fluid

To the one I was waiting for, I’ve had my fill. 💋
I know that I’m worth something. I may not know what that is yet, but I’m slowly learning.
To the one who made me slow down, I’m truly so thankful you were blinded.
May have stayed and lost myself, trapped away inside it.
To the one who wouldn’t stop, and I made the mistake of going back.
I don’t miss you, at all.
To the one I took care of, I miss you, a lot.
You’ve grown though, beyond me, and I’m so proud.
To the one who opened my eye,
I know someday you’ll be in my shoes, with someone looking up at you, and you’ll feel the same sting. You’ll feel the same pain. I’m sorry in advance, it ******* hurts.
To the one who doesn’t know, who hasn’t shown up to the party yet.
I don’t want you as much as I thought. I absolutely love the chase, certainly love to feel important and I’ve never stopped wanting to want, this just isn’t for us.
To everyone else who may show up along the way, be warned.
I’m quite content even though- somedays it rains, and somedays it pours.

When it rains,
hide me by
your arms.

When it's sunny,
take me in a picnic
With your eyes.

When it's windy,
let's talk
about love.

But
in a stormy day,
hold me hard
and ..
Can you sing for me?

The walls surround me.
I am trapped.
It's almost as if the ability to breathe has been stolen from me.
I can't see anything but the pale flesh encasing my hands.

I see the door,
I see the way out.
But for the life of me, I can't take it.
The fear is too strong, too encompassing.

I want to cry,
I want to scream;
WHY CAN'T I BE STRONG?

Why oh why for the life of me,
Can't I break free?

I try to fight the panic down,
I really do.
But every time the words are on the edge of my tongue,
They never come out.
Everything remaining unspoken threatening to choke me.
I start to tumble down.

I can't find my footing,
people now know.
My perfectly perfected facade is crumbling down.
The ground is unsteady,
I am sobbing now.
Everyone knows so I have to bury it all underground.  

But this is what I wanted,
To have people know.
To finally not be alone in the dark.
To have the words that have laid unspoken,
Finally, come rushing out.

I'm still not ready,
I don't know what I am.
I don't know who I should be.
I didn't choose this time.
I didn't choose this life.
And yet, cruel fate has chosen it for me.

So many people are so free.
Their walls are gone, and they can breathe.
I want to feel that, I do, but I don't think I can.
At least not right now.

I will choose when I break free,
I will choose when I get to breathe.
For now, I will return to my own hell.
Where I hope I break free before the choking fear threatens to break me.

Gal?
Pal?
Wait, what now?
How?

Bound to get some questions from this, some hate; a backlash. The funny side of this is my middle name can basically be a backslash.

Some will say I don't have to mention.
Others will say I'm doing it for attention.

I'm doing it because I don't know.
I'm putting my confusion fully on show.
Whoohoo! Yippie! Let's go!

I don't have to be shy.
So what? Sometimes, I feel pretty much, like a guy
Perhaps, the majority will stigmatise.
For you see, my gender does not fit into a pretty little box, at least not in society’s eyes

When I look at you, I feel like I am dying. Not the bad kind of dying, but the kind of dying where my lungs forget how to function and the oxygen can't seem to find its' way in.
The kind of dying where every hair on my body stands straight up, the muscles contracting like an icy wind just crept up my spine- frigid and tempting.
My eyes can't seem to break their gaze from you, like one of those cheesey scenes from a romance movie where they zoom in slowly on the person's face- locked on fixation.
My heart-rate slows, making it feel like there's no blood left in my body to pump, movements as slow as an IV drip full of Morphine.
Like my veins closed up and are rejecting circulation- just as i am rejecting focus on anything but you.
I can feel a warmth creep through me, like venom seeping into my blood after a deadly bite from a pit viper- just the perfect temperature to hatch the thousands of cocoons resting in my stomach lining.
I go to open my mouth, to speak to you, to converse about silly things like why the moon and sun never seem to meet, or why human toes are so odd- but all that seems to break its' way out of my body are butterflies of the most potent vibrancy, colors that don't even have names.
Colors so vivid and enchanting that only fairytales and daydreams could house them, conjure them up with spells of the highest power.
Your eyes catch me staring and I go weak in the knees- my body unable to decide whether it'd rather collapse to the ground in a motionless pile, sinking into the soil to become the undergrowth that feeds fungi and small flowers, or to kick itself into hyper-drive, frolicking about like a newborn fawn feeling sun on its back during its' first Spring.
Yet all it seems my mind can really fathom is the craving for you, like an intense sense of fiending for nicotine crawling through my flesh.
An addiction I couldn't stop, even if I wanted to. Since I will never stop wanting you.